


Army Dreamers

by Space_gays_that_arent_in_space



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Sburb Session, Alternate Universe - No Sburb/Sgrub Sessions, Anal Fingering, Arguing, Ass Play, Bisexual Jake English, Black Dirk Strider, Blow Jobs, Bottom Dirk Strider, Break Up, Cheating, Established Relationship, Falling In Love, Falling Out of Love, Heavy Angst, Hurt No Comfort, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Long-Term Relationship(s), Loss of Trust, M/M, POV Jake English, POV Second Person, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Smoking, Snowballing, Top Jake English, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-15 17:35:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28817178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Space_gays_that_arent_in_space/pseuds/Space_gays_that_arent_in_space
Summary: When you look at Dirk, laid out on the couch with his shades on his face and his chin tucked against his chest, you think he looks truly beautiful. He’s coated in the light of the sun and that thin little scar across his neck is this strange milky white-brown that makes you want to trace it with your fingers like you used to. His breathing is quiet, steady, you wonder what kind of dream he’s having and hope that it’s good. You reach your hand out, almost to take the glasses off, but instead you reach for the water you left on the coffee table and walk out onto the patio. He’ll wake up before the sun sets and you’ll get dinner, he’ll let you pick even though you feel immensely guilty over having picked the last four times. Then, you’ll watch tv, he’ll needle at you the whole time, and when he finishes his food he’ll disappear off into his lab for the night, leaving you out in the cold to wallow in all the pity you’ve been feeling for the last God knows how long.
Relationships: Jake English/Dirk Strider, Jane Crocker/Jake English
Comments: 7
Kudos: 13





	Army Dreamers

**Author's Note:**

> First fic of the new year, it took me so fucking long to start on this but hey I hope y'all enjoy it, and with this begins me trying to do my weird dirty bingo I made months ago. Also pray for me y'all I gotta work three days this week and I hate it

When you look at Dirk, laid out on the couch with his shades on his face and his chin tucked against his chest, you think he looks truly beautiful. He’s coated in the light of the sun and that thin little scar across his neck is this strange milky white-brown that makes you want to trace it with your fingers like you used to. His breathing is quiet, steady, you wonder what kind of dream he’s having and hope that it’s good. You reach your hand out, almost to take the glasses off, but instead you reach for the water you left on the coffee table and walk out onto the patio. He’ll wake up before the sun sets and you’ll get dinner, he’ll let you pick even though you feel immensely guilty over having picked the last four times. Then, you’ll watch tv, he’ll needle at you the whole time, and when he finishes his food he’ll disappear off into his lab for the night, leaving you out in the cold to wallow in all the pity you’ve been feeling for the last God knows how long. 

You think back to the old days, when things were new between the two of you. You think back to when every moment between the two of you was something truly magical, hypnotic, you think back on when you first fell in love with him. 

Dirk Strider, more than anything, is an oddball. Maybe even one of the strangest balls in the pile, and you like that about him, or maybe you liked it. You can’t quite be so sure anymore. You remember back in high school though, you were confused, scared of what could be instead of what is. You were confident, athletic, a real man’s man is what you thought you were. You were around sixteen, sitting with Dirk at one of Roxy’s more infamous parties, and in the pink light of her basement, all boozed up and full of laughter, you noticed how lovely Dirk really was-is. His eyes were peeking over his shades right at you, eyes only slightly glazed over.and grin just wide enough to notice. His hair was matted to his forehead ever so slightly, Roxy had made him dance with her earlier. Fuck. He was lovely. You still have pictures from that night, pictures of all of you huddled together and laughing your heads of, pictures of you and Dirk huddled in the corner, whispering to each other, there are so many pictures from that night that live so very near and dear to your heart, and when you look at Dirk on the couch right now, you wonder where the time has gone. 

You and Dirk shared your first kiss that night, right in the front seat of your car. You were dropping him off in front of his apartment, Jane had opted to spend the night over at Roxy’s, and right before he was going to get out of the car, he leaned in and kissed you. It was pure romance. You wonder where that romance went. When you moved from grappling hands and open mouths, begging to take one another in, to this. 

You dip your hand into your pocket and pull out a pack of smokes. It was Dirk’s hobby first, he really only did it while working, you say you do it socially, but really any occasion is social if you choose to make it. Back in high school you were appalled by the thought of ever laying your lips on one of these wretched things, now though, it takes the edge off at the end of a long day of living with one Dirk Strider. You take the cigarette between your lips and light it, when did it swap from cigars to these? From fun to stress? You can’t quite be sure, and after more than ten years of being with Dirk you aren’t entirely sure you want to know, not when the answer could very well be looking you in the mirror. After all, you aren’t exactly in your prime anymore. Your rock hard stomach and utterly toned gams are now looser, flabbier, you don’t play as many sports as you once did, your workout routine has taken a backseat to your new hobbies of day drinking and watching television while Dirk putters around in his lab all afternoon. You scrub a hand down your face and take a drag, watching smoke billow out across the city. It’s sunset, that same lovely shade of honey is coating everything. Maybe it’ll coat you, too, like a mosquito in amber. You’ll be preserved just as you are now, and though you aren’t at your peak, you aren’t at your absolute plateau either, and that can be said for something. 

You feel a buzz from your pocket and hold your cigarette between your lips while you check it. You have a text from Jane, something about wanting to talk to you when you have the chance, you’re sure it has to be something petty. After all, Jane would have called you if it were really that important. You hear the slide of the patio door behind you and fight the urge to tense your shoulders. You shove your phone into your pocket and deem Later as the perfect time to respond. Dirk’s face is unreadable when you see him beside you. He glances at you, taking you in in a way that makes you wonder if you being here has somehow an inherent wrong. He doesn’t say anything though, and for that you are thankful, though that gratitude only lasts for so long. 

”Thought you hated those things,” he nods to the cigarette at your lips. 

You’re struck with the memory of a fight you two had a few weeks ago, a fight in which you mentioned that smoker’s lung would keep him from living to be old enough to even see the machine uprising he so hopes for. You shudder. It was something you said off the dome, utterly meant to strike at one of the weak points you thought you knew, you were wrong. It didn’t do anything to hurt him, not really. No, instead Dirk stored it up to wait, and now your own pistol is right back in your face, perfectly ready for shooting. 

”Guess I do,” it’s the closest thing to a scathing remark you can think to give before flinging the cigarette from between your fingers and off the balcony. 

You see the way that Dirk’s eyebrows raise, a pretty shade of blond you’ve always loved. It compliments his skin perfectly, it compliments his personality perfectly. A pure, lovely blonde with a splotch of a deep brown right at the root that you only get to see every once in a while. It’s like a little secret that you and his body share. 

You told him once that you liked how his roots look with his hair and he got flustered, grew it out for a while before he dyed it back. You imagine what would happen if you tried that now, you’d probably be met with at best a roll of the eyes, at worst, a psychological analysis on why you so badly crave for him to change rather than to remain himself. You don’t know when he got into the business of thinking every word you say to him was something like an attack, but you know that you’re tired. You’re always so tired. You stand beside each other, arms not touching as you watch the sunset together. For a brief moment, you glance over at Dirk and catch his profile, he’s lovely from this angle too, as lovely as he is unknowable. 

Your hand reaches out to his and he allows you to take it. You think of dozens of things to say, dozens of conversations that could be had that you could very well ruin with an off comment or being unable to read his mood just the right way. You used to wonder if he still even cares, but you know he does because he shows it in those small ways that make you smile. You still fold the laundry together and in bed he lets you press your cold toes against his calf, shuddering as you wrap him up in your arms. He tussles with you still, even if those tussles are few and far between nowadays, and it is during those moments that you can imagine being totally, utterly smitten once again. 

For every vice in this dear relationship of yours, there is a virtue. Compromise and communication, those are the keys to a happy relationship, though you’ve lost that second key, or maybe you never even had it in the first place. You and Dirk were never truly wordsmiths when you were together-you still aren’t. You are men of action, and talk is cheap. At least, that’s what you believed. You believed that until you got to experience Dirk’s true face, the one where words are the things he knows best but feelings leave him with his head spinning. It’s like a little disease, all those feelings he has. He’s just begging for some of them to be taken on-begging to be taken care of. He begs in the way that he pushes and pushes and pushes till all you can really think to do is let go. 

There are evenings that begin just like this one though, evenings with a quiet sort of calm that denotes that you are doing well only for now, that there is an utter impermanence to this peace you two are sharing in. Then, something will set Dirk off. It could really be anything at all, you mentioning something about your work to which he will reply with a sharp comment about how you haven’t actually had any real work in upwards of two years (apparently your rugged good likes have gone out of style for the screen) or maybe you try to surprise him with his favorite food, only to find out that he’s already eaten without you. Then it all comes crashing down, devolving into a fight about things outside of the matter at hand because really your slight was just something that was meant to lead into what Dirk is actually mad about. You’ll think of leaving for the night, going out on a drive somewhere nice and scenic, maybe even all the way out into your favorite patch of woods you used to go camping in early on in your relationship. If you do you know you’ll fall asleep in your car, and then Dirk will see you’re gone and panic. He’ll panic awfully, his breathing will go off and he’ll text and text and text, but you will be asleep. Sometimes, when you go on that drive and you fall asleep in your car, your phone is off, sometimes when you fall asleep in the car you’re in the drive-thru of a fast food joint getting yourself a burger, sometimes, when you fall asleep in your car, you’re anywhere else. 

You stroke Dirk’s knuckles with your thumb and look to him, he’s still watching the sun. The further it sinks over the horizon, the closer you get to him, until suddenly he’s tucked into the perfect place in your arm and against your chest. You rest your cheek on his head and he leans against you, listening to the sounds of the city below. 

In these moments you can imagine your ride just the same. Imagine being in the drive-thru of a fast food place or in the woods climbing trees, but you can also imagine being here, with him, in this home you’ve built together for longer than you can remember. You moved in together fresh out of high school, a couple of young bucks ready to take on the world, Dirk with his scholarship to a prestigious robotics school and you with your offers to become the leading man on an action-fantasy television show. You wonder, just like you always do, what ever dared to change between the two of you. 

You open your mouth, thinking of something suave to say, something that will let you see that smile that is always so few and far between. 

”The sunset is almost as lovely as you this evening, my heart” 

Dirk, rather than smiling, presses his face closer against your chest. 

”Shut up,” 

You knit your fingers with his once more and grin, “I’m being serious. Even while asleep you looked absolutely dashing.” 

Dirk, much to your surprise, tilts his head upward and presses a kiss to your lips. You kiss back, of course, and feel the way his piercings press into your mouth. He’s so malleable like this, let’s you press him right against the edge of the balcony and move your hands down to his waist. You have no idea how things always come to be like this when they’re good. You don’t mind it though, of course you don’t. You could never mind it when he’s this sweet. 

You pull away, only briefly so, to get a good look at him. His shades are like an abyss in the dark, you want to take them off. You used to be able to, you would pluck them right off of his face and watch the surprise register right in those lovely orange eyes of his. You could try, reach your hand up and finger the side of them to see if he pushes your hand off and glares at you, or maybe he’ll let you pull them off. You can never quite be sure. Instead though, you kiss him once more, only briefly, and pull him inside. 

”So, what’ll we be having for supper this evening?” 

”Whatever you want. I don’t care.” 

You sigh and squeeze his waist a tad, “Oh c’mon, there has to be something you’re in the mood for. How about that nice little sushi place ‘round the corner, I know you’re always craving one of their maki rolls” 

Dirk looks off to the side, like he’s considering your offer, you’re already walking over to your phone to look at the menu. Jane’s texted you yet again, plenty of messages that have spanned across the day. You’re certain it’s nothing though, after all, if it were really that important she could have called you. Instead, you pull up the sushi place’s website and place an order for your usual. Dirk is sitting on the couch now, putting something on the tv and you feel warm inside. You can taste how good of a night this will be on the tip of your tongue. You get Dirk and spicy tuna and yourself the salmon avocado before settling on to the couch beside him. He’s put on some anime about robots fighting each other while children cry inside of them, you don’t particularly see the appeal, but you like to see Dirk happy. You lay your head in his lap, hands carding through your hair like the old days. Your heart is just swelling with all the affection you’re feeling in this moment, how lovely he is colored by the changing lights of the television. It reminds you of when you two had your first time together. 

It was almost this exact circumstance, though you were locked up in Dirk’s bedroom and had long spent your time engaging in some heavy petting. His hands had covered the expanse of your body, learning it through its creases and scars and little marks here and there. The light of the tv had changed the color of his hair to a shocking shade of pink, and you were completely smitten. Then, you pulled him on top of you and planted such a kiss onto his lips that he absolutely could not take it anymore and got you right down to your skivvies. 

As you stare into the tv almost vacantly, you think about how things seem to always repeat themselves, and can’t help but wonder if maybe that means that things between you and Dirk could repeat. If you could go back to those good times instead of just living through the bad. 

Before you even know it, the sushi is there, and you can hear a buzz from the living room. Golly, Jane must really be bored if she’s texting you this much. You take your phone back into your pocket from its place on the table and watch as Dirk pulls out his food. You sit side by side, knee to knee, while you watch this show of his. It’s peaceful, routine, you forgot how fun routine can be when you aren’t fighting. Your meal goes on like that for some time, and when you look at Dirk you realize he has his shades off. You feel like you could cry. 

You balance your sushi on your knees and use your newly free hand to wrap your arm around your boyfriend for the second time today. You kiss his lips and faintly taste the wasabi he loves to coat his food in. Your mouth tingles and rather than rushing to get water you relish in it. You taste the tuna and the spicy mayo and the right on his mouth and can’t help but relish in the way your heart races. No matter how long the two of you stay together, there is always something wonderful about when you kiss Dirk. He kisses you back, nipping at your bottom lip faintly and leaning in just close enough for you to know what’ll be happening when you finish your food. You chuckle an almost nervous chuckle, like you’re somehow surprised rather than giddy. You pull away though, controlling yourself for just brief enough of a moment to mention against the plush of his mouth how you ought to finish eating. 

Dirk gives you a nod, disappointed. When you’re able to see his eyes like this it’s easier to read him, like remembering your first language after spending so long in a foreign country. You give him one last kiss, right on his cheek, before resuming your meal. 

You both eat faster than before, like you’re kids again, and when you finish you find Dirk already making his way on top of you, into your lap to smother you in sushi flavored kisses. His hands plant directly on to your shoulders and you look at him with glee while your hands trace from his sides right down to his perky little ass. 

Dirk pushes his tongue right into your mouth, leaving you pinned to the couch, you forget how strong he is sometimes. You continue feeling up his ass, making sure to grab plenty of it in your hands. He lets out little grunts as he rocks against you and you can already feel yourself reaching half mast. He’s always been able to work you up so easily, you love that about him so much, you love him. You pull away from his lips and instead focus your attentions on kissing down his jaw, right until your lips are against the scar on his neck. Just as you’re about to begin sucking hickeys into his skin, you feel your phone buzz yet again. Just as you have for the entire night, you ignore it in favor of Dirk, he’s the one who deserves all of your focus right now. 

Then Dirk’s phone starts ringing. 

You try to keep him from pulling away, kissing at his neck and keeping your hands firmly on his ass, but none of it works. He reminds you that it could be any number of people in any number of situations, and with that you gently set him free. 

He climbs out of your lap and moves to where his phone is on one of the coffee tables beside the couch. 

”It’s Jane, can’t imagine what she wants so I’m sure it’ll only be a sec,” 

You yourself can’t quite imagine what it is either, but it could very well have to do with all those texts she sent you earlier. Though you and Dirk were very well in the middle of something, with him busy now is the perfect time to look at all those messages she sent you early. Finally, you pull out your phone and look at the messages waiting for you. 

_Hey, are you busy?_

_Jake, can we talk soon? I have some stuff to tell you_

_I want to get something off my chest._

_I know you’re free, please just text me back_

_Jake. You have to answer me._

_Jake._

_Hello?_

_Jake please stop ignoring me_

_I can’t do this anymore. I’m going to call_ \- 

Before you can read the end of the text, one of your favorite ornate busts go flying past your skull. Just as suddenly, Dirk’s shades are on his face and his hand seems to just be twitching with the desire to get his hand on one of his swords. Slowly, you feel all of the blood drain from your face, and your heart nearly stops. 

”What the fuck, Jake.” 

”Dearest, I can explain!” 

”What THE FUCK?!” Dirk never raises his voice, especially not around you. It seems that he’s never had a reason to, at least, not until today. 

His shoulders are shaking and you can tell that he’s starting to cry, especially when the tears finally fall from beneath his shades. You stand, you want to take him into your arms, apologize, tell him that none of it even matters anymore, but he won’t even let you get close. Instead, you’re dodging anything he can get his hands on, he’s so angry that he’s entirely dropped that mask of calm he has always maintained even in the worst of times. 

You get as close as you can before falling to your knees, begging him for mercy like a church boy staring at the devil. 

”I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry,” You’re groveling, holding your hands out to him and hoping he’ll take it. 

You’ve been together so long, too long, it can’t end just because of some foolish mistake of yours. It just can’t, you won’t let it. He takes a step back though, eyeing you with such an intense wariness there is a part of you that almost feels like a monster. 

”I can’t believe you.” 

”I’m sorry!” 

”How long?” 

”Dirk please-please let’s just-let me explain!” 

”How. Long.” 

You struggle to come up with an answer, struggle to think of the truth and the reasons why and everything else that could keep Dirk from leaving you right here right now where you stand-or rather, kneel. 

”A few months..” 

Dirk let’s out a breath, like he’s relieved, and you know that a part of him is because that means you haven’t been pulling one over on him for so long he should have noticed. He doesn’t say anything more to you, instead, he goes to the kitchen. You of course follow, for fear of what he may do to himself or you, and watch as he pulls out a bottle of whiskey that you have left unopened for the last seven years. A gift from Dave for your five year. 

”To many more, or something like that” He had said. 

You planned on drinking that on your wedding night, whenever that came. 

Neither of you had ever proposed, instead, you stayed in a perpetual state of comfort. Boyfriends over husbands, twelve years of asking if you could bring your lover or your partner, like saying the word boyfriend would reveal how juvenile all of this was down to the source. Like it would reveal that all of this, all of you, was a sham the whole time, meant to be acted out until you finally rotted too much for the mask to be recognizable. 

Dirk flicks off the cap to the bottle before taking a big swig. He’s watching you, perched atop the counter. He’s like a wild animal, a wounded predator waiting for the chance to strike. You want to raise your hand in surrender, like it’ll do something more than piss him off, but you know that it won’t, you know that you can’t do anything but watch and wait. He’s right next to the knife block, and though you know he’d never do anything as severe as that, you can’t help but remember the way his hand twitched in the living room like it was just begging for something sharp. 

You try to think of something to say, something that will disarm him enough into letting up a little on that 30 yard glare. Instead, he speaks first, like he knows exactly what you’re thinking, but rather than beheading you and pulling all of your internal organs out, he asks a single question. 

”Why, Jake?” 

Of course, there are a lot of answers to a question like that. None of which are simple, none of which make you feel like the hero you ought to be. You think for a long time, you think about when it started and the last time you saw Jane and all of the other things that pertain to this accident-this mistake. 

”I…I don’t know….I just….I was lonely, Dirk.” 

”You were lonely? Lonely enough that you went and fucked one of our best friends for upwards of six months, if not longer? God Jake, that’s my bad. I am so sorry that you were so lonely. I should have definitely penciled in spending more time with my boyfriend to make sure that he doesn’t run off and shove his dick into the girl who’s been in love with him since high school. How idiotic it was of me to have something as basic as _trust_ in the man that I love.” 

You don’t know where it comes from, nor are you wholly sure of it when it does, but the rage you feel as you listen to Dirk is immense and painful. His words are sharper than his katana and his glare is almost worse than a shot to the gut. You hate the way he patronizes you, you hate the way that you just know he’s looking down on you for something that was a mistake. 

”Well boy howdy Dirk, I’m sorry that after being together for well over a gosh damned decade a guy could get a little lonely-maybe even, if I’m bold enough to say, which I am, _bored_! Who wouldn’t get bored when I spend all my days being shut out by the fellow who’s supposed to love me and only deigns to give me his oh so important attention when he decides he needs to critique everything I do! Maybe sometimes a guy wants to feel loved-appreciated even, and if that’s what a gal who’s inherited a multi-billion dollar corporation can do better than my own boyfriend, then I guess we’ve both been something of the court’s jester!” 

”You know what, fuck you Jake. Fuck you extra hard. Fuck you with the hard end of Indiana Jones’s whip covered in fucking spikes.” 

”Creative, Dirk. Maybe if you were more creative with divvying up your time to possibly show your partner a little affection then we wouldn’t be here right now, would be?” 

Dirk flinches at that and takes another drink from the bottle. The hand that isn’t holding the bottle is instead rubbing up and down his thigh, you can see him trying not to fidget where he sits, refusing to do that cute little thing where he rocks back and forth when he needs to calm himself down. You went too far. You know you went too far. That was too cruel and you know it, you’re the one who cheated, you aren’t _allowed_ to say things like that. Not now, not here. 

There’s a part of you that’s enraged with Jane. Completely and utterly po-ed about the fact that she made tonight like this, but it’s your fault and you know it. You shouldn’t have done it in the first place. You’re now the boy caught with his hand in the cookie jar, and with the way that that metaphor plays out you can’t help but wonder if Dirk will ever be able to eat boxed pastries after this. Briefly, dumbly, you wonder what he’ll do for all those birthdays he helps out at, especially since Dave seems to just love to make that boyfriend of his a box mixed cake. Maybe you’ll be the one to help, though that would imply that you and Dirk will stay together after this and that is entirely uncertain. 

He’s looking at the ground now, rubbing his leg more and barely even trying to hide the rocking. The bottle is more so pressed against his lips than actively being drank from and you ache to take him in your arms. You take a step forward, Dirk’s head snaps up to look at you. This time, it’s you who speaks over him. 

”I didn’t mean that. I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry. I didn’t mean any of what I said or any of what I did Dearheart, honestly.” You put your hand atop your heart and fall to one knee. It’s not that you mean for the theatrics, it’s simply the only thing you know. 

Dirk chuffs at you, annoyed as he should be for you doing something like this. 

”If you didn’t mean it, you wouldn’t have said it.” 

You stand so quickly it makes your head spin. You quickly approach him, placing your hands on either side of him. He looks surprised-disgusted that you would get this close to him without his permission, not when you’ve done what you did. 

”I didn’t mean it, Dirk.” 

”I meant it when I said I trusted you.” 

”I know.” 

”I shouldn’t have.” 

”What?” 

”I shouldn’t have trusted you.” 

You can feel something in your break and the waterworks begin almost in tandem. 

”I meant that. By the way.” 

The look Dirk gives you isn’t watery. If anything he gives you a look that is entirely sure of himself, as closed off as it is certain. You hate him for it, hate him for being able to turn his feelings off while you have to sit here and wallow. You hate that he found out, you hate that he’s treating you like this, you hate that things will be irrevocably changed by this, you hate that you’ve lost so much of your life to this one man. You are filled with such a hate that it runs through your veins red hot and bright, it runs right with all the love and guilt and sadness and regret that you feel in this moment. It runs through you like your blood-no, it replaces your blood entirely, for it’s unnecessary now. You don’t need blood when you have this many emotions filling you right to your brim. 

You push Dirk against the kitchen tile by his shoulders and kiss him. He tries to fight back, tries to convey that he’s still angry, but you know that he feels this too, feels this absolute sense of need that you have always shared physically. Even when you were just friends, there was something about him that your body could not deny, and neither could he. It isn’t long until he kisses you back, fervent and hot and bright. You kiss and nip at his jaw, sucking in bruise after bruise, making sure that even if you’re gone, even if things change after this, he will have to remember you, from these bruises on his neck to the accidental scars you’ve left on his heart with this action alone. 

He pushes you lower and lower and lower until you’re eye to eye with the obvious strain in his orange pj pants. You lick your lips and had this been any other kind of night then you most assuredly would have made a joke, instead, you pull him out of his pants so quickly that you could swear you catch him gasping. His dick is warm in your hand and it fits easily, he’s always liked the way that you seem to dwarf him and you plan to use that to your full advantage. Quickly, you take the head of his dick into your mouth, giving a few cursory bobs as you press your tongue flat over your teeth. He grabs your hair tight and you resist the urge to groan. He still can’t hit the back of your throat without you gagging, but you make up for that with the way you stroke what you mouth can’t take. You know that he likes it a little rough, Dirk always likes things rough in the bedroom, and as often as you’d like to bare your worship to him, you know that that won’t get him off, so you give him the pressure that you know he adores. 

Above you, Dirk is trying to keep himself quiet, like always, he never has much been one for expressiveness in the bedroom, not unless he’s making strict demands for you to do something different. With one hand he grips your hair, with the other he’s still making very good friends with the bottle of whiskey that has seemingly become his lifeline. 

You pull off for a moment, licking long strips up from the base of his cock to the very tip of it, taking in the salt of the precum you know as well as you know him. When you pull his pants down a little further and he lifts his ass for you. You manage to get them all the way off of him. Now you can do what you really want, swiftly, you grab his hip in hand to keep him in place, being sure to press against a dimple that lies there. His whole body stutters when you do, it always stutters like that when you touch him there. It’s sweet, how well you’ve learned what makes him feel good, you just wish-hope that you will have the opportunity to keep doing something like this. You take him into your mouth once more, moving sloppy and quick how he likes best, you can feel your saliva sliding down your chin and dripping down down down. Dirk is bucking his hips upward now and he’s holding himself back, little muted jerks that match in time with your head bobs and the jerk of your fist enclosed around his cock. 

Suddenly, without thinking about it, you let your hand fall away. Dirk’s hips immediately surge forward and the tip of his cock hits the back of your throat, it’s jarring for a moment, and really he can barely tell that he’s doing it, he’s just following his man’s instinct and that is something you can respect. Your body adjusts, tears flooding your eyes and your gag reflex causing your throat to tighten for a moment, but you power through it. You keep your head moving while Dirk digs both hands into your scalp and pulls at your hair like you are his noble steed and those are his reigns. Almost all too suddenly, he cums into your mouth. You sputter for a moment, but don’t swallow. Instead, you surge upward and press a wanton kiss into his mouth making sure that he tastes his own seed on your tongue. He lets out a long, heady groan, as if this was exactly what he wanted. Your grip on his face is tight and as he holds you by your shoulders he pulls you ever closer. 

You grab Dirk by his ass, hoisting him from the kitchen counter and taking him to the bedroom. You kiss the whole way there and it reminds you of when you first moved in here together. You had christened the entire place with your love, and now, in the end, you’ll do the same thing. 

You toss him down onto the bed and listen to the way that the springs squeak beneath his weight. You both strip down to your birthday suit almost immediately, catching eyefuls of bodies you’ve spent your entire youth learning. You see the scar on Dirk’s neck and all the other ones that litter his body, creamy white stark against brown. There are some that you were with him for, like the one on his forearm from when he and Dave got too rough when sparring, a scar on his knee from when he tried roller blading with Roxy, even a small one, on the side of his finger, from when he tried to cut vegetables with his sharpest katana. He knows yours too, he knows about the scar on your back from when you fell into a campfire as a kid, he knows about the long cut on your stomach from when you got too friendly with a sharp branch, he knows you as well as you know him. It is in this moment that it dawns on you. 

No one will ever know you like he does. 

No matter how long you spend with some new person, they will never know you the way that this man here does. They will not know that you’ve gone to the same dentist since you were 4, or that you absolutely cannot eat scallions, or the exact detergent you use for your socks. They won’t know about the grief that your childhood dog’s death brings you daily nor the way that you’re still embarrassed by the way you acted on your first hunting trip with your nan. It is in that same way that you know no one will ever know Dirk the same way. They won’t know how important his puppets are to him, as they were one of his first friends he ever had, nor will they know that when he wears his shades it's a matter of protecting himself. 

No one will ever know you like Dirk, but that means that no one will ever hurt you like Dirk does every moment you’re together. 

You pull the lube out from the bedside drawer and coat your fingers in it. He’s staring at you from underneath his shades, and all you want is for him to take them off, to get to see his whole face for what very well could be the last time. Instead, you place yourself between his legs once more, watching the way his abs flex with each breath. Funny how Dirk has managed to stay in shape while you’ve let yourself go. 

You use your thumbs to part the way a little bit and immediately dove in. You slurp and suck and slobber all over Dirk’s waiting hole before you manage to shimmy in two fingers. He grunts above you, his hands returning to your head yet again. He wants it rough, rougher, he always tells you. Promises that you don’t have to be so gentle all the time, and now you’ll give that to him. A final huzzah of sorts. As you scissor open his asshole, using a mixture of lube and spit to ready him, you think about all the other times you’ve done this, all the sweet talking and romance that precedes it. Instead of that he’s given arguing, fighting, a trust so broken that it cannot be mended. You want to apologize. 

You don’t though, you can’t. Not now, or you may ruin your chances at showing Dirk just how much you love him. 

All too suddenly, Dirk is pulling your head up from between his ass. His chest is heaving now, and his mouth is twisted up in that impatient little scowl he always gets when you two are having sex. He’s rock hard, yet again, and if there is anything at all you love about Dirk’s body (and boy golly are there a lot of things you love about that body of his) it’s his stamina. Yet another thing that you’ll be unable to quite match if you ever take a new partner, no one has ever been able to match your stamina like Dirk. He’s like a darned racehorse. 

”Get on your back, now.” 

”But dearest are you sure you’re properly-” 

”Stop. You can’t-you can’t call me that, not anymore.” 

His voice wavers for only a moment, and you comply with his request. You lay yourself up against the pillows and watch as Dirk climbs into your lap. 

You trace little shapes into his thighs with your thumbs as he readies himself, but then he pauses. 

”Maybe I should wear a condom, yknow, since I don’t know where else you’ve been.” 

It’s sharp, it stings, he’s completely within his rights to have said it. You really don’t have a response to give, not to something so aptly Dirk. Instead of using words, you simply stroke his hips and look up at him, begging, pleading, hoping and praying, that he’ll fuck you like he always has. There’s only a moment of hesitation before Dirk starts lathering your cock in lube and lining it up to meet his insides. There are a thousand things going through your head, and all of them are gone when you feel how hot and tight and wet Dirk is. You groan, loud and long, your hands immediately clamping down on Dirk’s sides. 

”Oh dear, it seems like you’re almost tighter than usual, Hea-” 

Dirk, rather than saying anything to you, kisses you, hard. He kisses you with all of that rage and pain and hurt that you know lies inside of him. The hurt of being with someone like you for so long, the rage of having been so unceremoniously mistreated, the pain of having been betrayed. He bites your bottom lip till it bleeds as he brings his hips upward, right until only the head of your dick is inside of him, he slams back down, hard, and you groan again. His pace is slow, torturous, up up up and then one harsh down. You try to meet him but that only leads to him stopping, staring at you. 

”Dirk...please..” It comes out of your mouth like a sigh and a groan as he repeats himself over and over and over again. 

”You gonna fuck me how I want, English?” 

You can’t help but feel like this was some sort of trick question, but you nod anyway, and suddenly Dirk picks up the pace just a little bit more. He feels so good like this, he always feels so good, his mouth is all over you leaving little marks and bites for you to remember him by. This time, you get the chance to catch his mouth in a kiss, you push your tongue right into his mouth and he meets you back, his hips not once letting up on their little gyrations. When you pull away, he does something absolutely bonkers. He collects all the saliva in his mouth, and gripping your jaw so that your mouth is forced open, he spits. 

It goes straight to your dick in a way that makes you nearly ashamed of yourself. 

That’s what sets you off. You force him right on to his back and fuck up into him viciously. 

”You dirty filthy harlot,” 

Each word is punctuated by a thrust into his ass. 

”just because I did wrong doesn’t mean that you’re innocent!” 

Dirk’s nails dig into your shoulders, the scratches he leaves up your back are blunt, they won’t break the skin. 

”What did I do wrong Jake? What did I do that made you want to go fuck someone else,” His voice is a breath in your ear, hot and all too seductive for what he’s asking. 

Tears fill your eyes and finally you begin to cry, ugly, wet tears that you press right into the crook of his neck. You’re still thrusting, somehow, someway. Dirk has always had this effect on you, the way that his body so stimulates yours, like he was meant for you, like you were meant for each other. 

”Fuck, fuck, fuck. I’m sorry Dirk. I love you” 

Dirk lets out a grunt, and you realize that you hit his prostate right on. 

”Why did you,” the groan that cuts him off is so lewd you worry about popping your load far too soon “do it? Why did you do it?” 

You slam into him, holding him close to you as you listen to the slap your hips make against each other. 

”I love you” 

You know your hands are bruising him, you know that he likes it, you know that you’re both feeling far too good for the circumstances and for a moment you can’t help but wonder if this is the first time in a long time you’ve felt this good. 

”Why did you do it?” 

”I love you” 

You want him to understand you, to hear you, to hear all the things you’re leaving unsaid because you don’t know how to say it. You want him to know how much you love him, how much you want nights on the couch and evenings on the balcony and birthdays with his family. You want everything that you had and you want him to know that you wish you hadn’t done it in the first place. 

”Why did you do it?” 

”I love you” 

You’re both crying now, you can hear it in his voice, you can feel it in the way that he holds you impossibly closer. You fuck up into him like you know this will be the last time because you’re scared that it is. You’re so scared because you know that Dirk is the best thing that’s ever happened to you and you went and mucked it all up because of problems that you could never quite root. Now you realize that it’s you, you’re the weed, you’re the problem. 

”Why” 

”I love you” 

He’s gripping you tighter now, he’s impossibly tight and wet and hot and you think about the first time you went to see Jane. You think about the way that she made you feel like a man in all the ways Dirk didn’t, how she didn’t belittle you about your job problems and how she reminded you that you were good and handsome and sweet and someone worthy of loving. You think about Why, and you know that it’s because Dirk, in being so much better than you, could never love you the way you need. You know that his erratic neurosis and your insecurity could never work. It was like a long, slow, painful death, this relationship. A life spent on the edge only to come crashing and burning. You two are sitting here in the bottom of a ravine, car in ruins and flames consuming you both. 

”Why” 

”I love-” 

You cum with a loud groan and feel Dirk meet you not long after. 

You two kiss, one last time, full of need. He grapples at your back and you make sure you can feel each stunted breath he takes against your chest. Then, you roll off of him. 

”I’m sorry.” 

You say it one last time with the hope that maybe it could fix something, anything at all. 

You lay there for a long while, breathing in the darkness of your bedroom, when you glance at Dirk you notice that he’s still crying, he’s crying so much that he’s got his glasses off to wipe his eyes. You reach for him, and the moment you do, he sits up. Cum dripping down his legs, Dirk gets up and puts on his clothes. He doesn’t spare you a glance until he’s fully dressed. 

”I’m going to Roxy’s place and...I want you to pack your shit. I don’t care where you go, or what you do, I just want you out when I’m back.” 

”But-” 

”No, Jake, no buts, I can’t...do this anymore” 

With that, Dirk shuts the door to your bedroom and leaves you to wallow in the ashes of your mistakes.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi kudos, comments, etc are greatly appreciated and there is a 99% chance that if you comment I'll reply.
> 
> @tamyura__on twt  
> @porcelain_babies on insta


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